Who I Am When I Don't Know Myself Anymore
by megsss333
Summary: Kurt and Blaine are dating when Kurt is transferred to Dalton. He develops an eating disorder. Will he be able to hide to the self-destructive behavior or will the bodily damage catch up before someone else notices? WARNING: EATING DISORDER TRIGGERS
1. We're Trying

**Kurt's POV**

I'm fat. There is literally shit hanging on my body. There are so many words to describe the jiggles on me: vile, revolting, gross, obscene. But it's a never ending cycle of self-destruction that only makes me turn in on myself. Yes, I know I have a peculiar diet, or lack thereof, but it's not serious. I'm healthy, and I'll stop when I'm satisfied. No one knows that I only eat 300 calories or less a day, that I have been for almost four months. Not my dad, not Mercedes, my best friend, and not my boyfriend, Blaine. They don't need to know, because I know that they would make a big deal out of it. Look at me. I'm fine. Other than self-hatred, I love this diet. At the same time, I hate it. Not only do I hate feeling hungry and empty all the damn time, but I hate that I can't see a physical difference. I should be losing weight, right? I stood in front of my mirror, pinching the skin on my stomach. All I saw in the reflecting image was fat fat fat fat fat FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT. The mantra overwhelmed me, and angry tears rolled down my face. I wiped them away, annoyed at myself, hating myself. This happened every morning. A knock on the door. Also usual.

"Hey, Blaine," I greeted the visitor at my door. He kissed me on my pudgy cheek, ignoring my blotchy skin that gave off the fact that I had been crying.

"Good morning, Kurt! I brought coffee," he offered generously. I accepted, grateful he had caught onto my habit of taking coffee black without questions. My reason? Black coffee is zero calories.

"Thank you, baby," I said sincerely. Blaine smiled at the pet name and sat at my desk.

"What do you have going on today?" I asked.

"Just a physics test. I'll study some during lunch," he replied.

"I have a French test. I'll join you," I said nonchalantly. Blaine gave a look.

"You're already bilingual, Kurt. You should go have lunch with the Warblers," he suggested.

"I know, but Dalton tests seem to sneak things in that I actually have to study for," I sighed.

**Blaine's POV**

I knew something was going on with Kurt. His energy dwindled, and he turned into himself a bit. I understand it, maybe. Being at Dalton as a mid-year transfer was hard. Sure, we were dating, but I can't claim to solve all of his problems. Maybe he needed his McKinley friends or maybe schoolwork was difficult? My plan was to give Kurt support and a shoulder to cry on, if need be. I won't pry. He would talk to me when he was ready. Just like always, I knocked on Kurt's dorm door and offered the usual coffee when he opened the door.

"Hey, Blaine," he greeted with sad eyes. His soft brown hair was styled, but he was wearing his most baggy clothes. This morning was probably one of the harder days, I could tell.

"Good morning, Kurt! I brought coffee," I smiled brightly, seeing Kurt smile back in the slightest.

"Thank you, baby," he cooed. I smiled even wider and made myself comfortable in his room at his desk.

"What do you have going on today?" he asked taking a cautious sip from the black coffee, a new drink habit that honestly confused me. Straight coffee was rough to the stomach due to acidity. Plus, sugar is amazing.

"Just a physics test. I'll study some during lunch," I responded. The Warblers' practice room allowed food in it, so I would take some food there and have privacy.

"I have a French test. I'll join you," Kurt suggested. His company would be enjoyable, but I've heard him beautifully rant in French before. Why study? When I questioned him on that, he simply replied with the obvious: Dalton foreign language tests went past grammar and vocabulary. His sigh of anxiety was adorable, and I couldn't help but kiss his cheek like I did when he opened the door.

He stiffened. He fucking stiffened and leaned away. His anguish over whatever is going on hurts me. I'm not angry at Kurt; rather I'm sad for him. The struggles in his life were really taking a toll on him. He's tired and losing weight noticeably…

No matter. I will do anything for his smile to reach his eyes again.


	2. Closer Look

**Kurt's POV**

The day was boring up until I went to the Warblers' room to study with Blaine. I rounded the hallway corner and immediately found Blaine lounging on a dark faux leather couch with a bag a chips on one side of him and a thick book in his lap.

"Hi, love," I said to make my presence known. He snapped his head up and smiled like and eager puppy. I sat down next to him and pulled out books of my own, ignoring the empty feeling in my stomach. No, not hungry.

"How's your day been?" he asked.

"Fine," I retorted like usual. Actually, that was far from the truth, but would I tell my boyfriend that I almost fainted in math class? Or that I was so shaky that I had a hard time holding my pencil in physics?

"Fine," I repeated, more to assure myself. Blaine patted my soft knee soothingly.

"How are you?" I asks, trying to rid myself of selfish thoughts. He sighed to my surprise.

"I'm alright. Just stressing out over this," he admitted with a gesture to the books strewn about. I hummed sympathetically and opened my books to study. Fifteen minutes passed before either of us looked at the clock again.

"We better get going. Class starts in five minutes," Blaine said dejectedly. I patted his shoulder. His lean shoulder.

"You'll do fine. Take your time," I smiled. He always got so stressed out with tests yet came out with the highest scores. We packed and stood up. Blaine pulled me into a hug when suddenly my vision blacked out momentarily, and I stumbled a bit on weak legs.

"Whoa, honey. Are you okay?" Blaine asked with immense concern and strong arms to hold me up. I shook out of the lightheaded daze and blinked a him.

"Yeah, totally fine!" I smiled brightly.

"Did you eat today?"

"Of course," I half-lied. After my coffee, I nibbled on three crackers. 70 calories.

"What did you have for lunch?"

"I had the…uh…pasta in the cafeteria." My pulse quickened as I said it. It went haywire especially when Blaine was silent for a moment, scrutinizing me with his hazel eyes.

"Okay then. Well, I'm off to class. See you later, love!" he chimed. He kissed my lips before picking up his stuff and waking out of the room. It seemed like a while before I took a shuddery breath. That was close. Too close. I went to my French class trying to rid myself of the cold sweat and pounding headache that had established.

**Blaine's POV**

I sat in the Warbler's room reviewing my physics notes and munching on Doritos.

"Hi, love," a soothing voice greeted. Kurt stood in front of me clutching his satchel before sitting right next to me and getting started on studying. It's crazy how he can brighten my day with just his presence.

"How's your day been?" I questioned him like a good boyfriend.

"Fine," he replied in a monotone voice. That didn't strike me as odd because it was his way of telling me he really didn't want to talk about deep feelings.

"Fine," he repeated in a lower voice that struck a chord in my heart. I gently touched his knee as a demonstration of comfort. What I was not expecting was the sharpness of his knee cap. No real flesh, just bone. I had to ask myself: Was Kurt losing weight?

"How are you?" he asked me. My train of thought about his knee was lost, and I simply sighed.

"I'm alright. Just stressing out over this," I pointed toward my school load. Kurt gave me a sympathetic look. In the quiet we worked on our separate subjects. During that time, I snuck glances over at my boyfriend. Luckily he was completely engrossed in French and didn't notice my stalker-ish looks. Tired. Worn out. Fading. That was what I saw when I looked at Kurt. Now I could add thin; almost scary thin with his face gaunt and bony knees showing through the fabric of our Dalton slacks. This was bringing my mood down. My mood worsens when I saw the clock.

"We better get going. Class starts in five minutes," I announced. Kurt saw through my mood and related it to my physics test.

"You'll do fine. Take your time," he advised sweetly. It was my own fault for getting lost in my head and not paying attention to my schoolwork. Oh, well. We both put our bags together and stood up from the leather couch. I felt compelled to embrace Kurt and so enveloped him in my eyes. As I pulled away, he seemed to lose strength and his face visibly paled. Crap.

"Whoa, honey. Are you okay?" I asked while holding his body upright.

"Yeah, totally fine!" he said with a pained smile. Liar.

"Did you eat?" I tried.

"Of course," he said nonchalantly. LIAR.

"What did you have for lunch?" I pried again.

"I had the…uh… pasta in the cafeteria." My heart crumpled seeing the hitch in his breath, a visible lie. I took his appearance in. Adding to the list of things I could see, he hid a secret. A dark secret that he couldn't tell his own boyfriend. I reminded myself to take notice of his habits more closely.

"Okay then. I'm off to class. See you later, love," I said and left the room after a brief kiss. I alkyd to the dreaded physics test with more dread for Kurt than the class.


	3. Questioning

**Kurt's POV**

Today was just not my day. I had a hard time focusing on the French test. I'm pretty sure I left a question or two blank. Since when did this all escalate? Wes then texted all of the Warblers for an extra practice after school. We aren't even competing any time soon! Instead of going to my dorm to sleep for a bit as usual, I was forced to head to the practice room. Blaine hopped up to kiss me on instinct, which I always found funny, when I came into the bustling room of boys. Rehearsal began.

Rather than the step-step shuffle movement of tradition, it transformed into a routine of the New Directions kind. In twenty minutes, the Warblers had learned a small routine to the verse and chorus of a random pop song. I was beat. When had I been this fatigued during the New Directions routines? Those were longer and harder than this!

"Two more run-throughs!" Thad called out. I took a deep breath, but maybe that wasn't the best idea. The blood rushed through my ears, and my heart throbbed painfully. I could feel it in my head. The room began spinning and my breathing shallowed out of fear for what was happening.

"You okay?" Blaine said quietly, coming form nowhere, placing hand on my shoulder and another caressing my cheek. I didn't trust myself to speak because uncomfortable tremors took over my body. Blaine's eyes widened significantly. He opened his mouth and said something, but the blackness in my vision dulled sound. The floor looked so comfortable right then. I was just going to lie down. Just for a bit. Unfortunately, I had no strength to gently lower myself, so I simply fell. I felt Blaine's hands on me, but I was so tired. So drained. Just let me sleep… Black.

**Blaine's POV**

I really had no clue as to why Wes would issue a random Warbler practice, but he explained that Thad had created new choreography and needed to be rehearsed to see if it was any good. I agreed and met with the council a bit before the rest of the guys filed in.

"Hey," David said to Wes under his breath, "Let's keep an eye on Kurt." If they were trying to keep that from me, I still heard and eavesdropped while listening to Thad's idea.

"Why?" Wes asked.

"He fell asleep in Physics earlier. He just looks ill," David said. I was shocked. Kurt, I know, was never one to fall asleep in class. Wes agreed to look out right as Kurt walked in. I stopped to stare at my boyfriend from my spot on the couch. I had to stifle a gasp as he moved into the room. Tired. Worn out. Fading. Thin. Pale as ivory yet not pretty. He had a greenish tint to his skin. How had that change occurred within so few hours? I put on a facade and went up to kiss him.

* * *

Practice began with just repetition of some moves. The Warblers haven't really ever done anything like this, but it was fun. I wasn't the only guy with freedom to move around.

"Two more run-throughs!" Thad yelled. I walked by Kurt to get back in place and stole a glance at him. I stopped in my tracks. If I thought he was pale before, he was translucent now. His eyes fluttered and breathing eradicated.

"You okay?" I asked and reached out to touch him, hold him. I spoke quietly as to not cause a scene with the other Warblers, but there wasn't any reason. Kurt's body began quivering, eyes darting around the room. I was losing him, I could tell.

"Baby, just sit for a second, okay?" My suggestion was too late. Kurt slipped through my arms and crumpled onto the floor with a solid thud.

"Shit," I murmured as I leaned over him. "Somebody call the nurse!" I yelled, now involving the Warblers. Wes as leader jumped into action while David ushered the guys out of the room. A million thoughts ran through my head as I stroked Kurt's sweaty forehead. The most prevalent being how I haven't seen him eat lately.

"Baby, why?" I pleaded and kept doing so until Wes arrived with the school nurse. She bustled in with Dalton-colored scrubs and a full medical bag.

"Oh dear. He fainted?" the kind, old lady questioned. I nodded, not taking my eyes off of Kurt. The nurse pulled a wipe out of her bag and waved it under Kurt's nose. I held his head in my lap while he made signs of waking up. Blue eyes stared at the ceiling after a moment. I sighed in relief.

"Hey there, honey. Here's the deal: you fainted, and I need you in my office for a check-up to see what's wrong. Blaine here will carry you. Don't worry," she cooed at him. At the mention of me carrying him, Kurt's eyes widened, and he shook his head rapidly.

"No? Well, do you think you could stand?" the nurse asked patiently. I watched as Kurt moved slowly to stand on his unsteady legs. Once fully erect, he took a step forward and began to crumple again with fatigue, but I swooped in and grabbed his torso in one arm.

And gasped. Ribs. Ribs. Ribs. Fucking ribs. This isn't normal. Kurt heard my gasp and tried to shrug my arm off. His stubbornness angered me, so I made the quick decision to carry him. He made a whine to protest, but I looked down at his face with tears welling in my eyes. The weight in my arms was sickeningly light like a child's. My anguish shut him up.

"Okay then," the nurse said with curiosity, "Let's go." She led us out. We passed some Warblers who were standing by as witnesses. They used their eyes to communicate their concern for what happened. Kurt buried his head into my chest, and we kept walking.

The nurse's office was always a comfortable place. Dalton made sure of that to satisfy ill boarding students and make it feel more like their home. I laid Kurt on one of the beds then stripped his blazer and shoes. The nurse got to work with blood pressure and temperature.

"Have you eaten today, sweetie?" she asked while messing with the machines. I held Kurt's cold hand.

"Uhm, yeah," he replied breathily. Liar.

"I'm going to get you some fruit juice because it will help you get those needed electrolytes back in your system." Kurt just nodded and close his eyes. I couldn't help but stare, especially at the bones peeking out of the white uniform shirt.

"Why did you lie?" I basically whispered. Kurt opened his bleary eyes once more to look at me.

"Lie about what?" he asked naively. I sighed and stroked his hand.

"About eating today," I bluntly stated. It was a guess but a fairly good one. Kurt opened and closed his mouth trying to find the words but was interrupted by the nurse coming in with a cup of fruit juice.

"Thank you," Kurt said quietly. I helped him to sit up and drink.

"Talk to me, baby. I need to understand. I can't sit back and watch you get sick. Why are you doing this to yourself?" I pleaded. I did need to know. Whatever the problem, it was affecting our relationship badly. This was killing me and maybe him because he did look like death itself.


	4. Unspoken Pain

**Kurt's POV**

The fumes of smelling salts have always interested me. They aren't that unpleasant when conscious, but they always seem to pull the faint out of unconsciousness. It was with this magic that I was revived. The out of body experience was over and now I just felt drained. Everything was quiet. I was aware of Blaine's lap as my pillow, taking comfort in the gesture as I lied calmly on the floor.

"Hey there, honey," the motherly nurse called out. "Here's the deal: you fainted, and I'm going to need you in my office for a check-up to see why. Blaine here will carry you. Don't worry," she finished, patting my arm. Don't worry? Oh, _of course_ not. Let's not worry about Blaine picking me up and straining himself under the weight. It's not that he's weak, rather I'm heavy. Oh no. That's not humiliating at all. My fear was visible. I refused to be carried.

"No? Well, do you think you can stand?" That was a good question. I was willing to try and wordlessly stood up. I felt weak and shaky and a bit nauseous. My goal was the nurse's office a hallway down from the Warblers' room.

I began my journey with a small step, but strength left me. I felt myself lose balance. Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around me. I was grateful to Blaine for catching me, but when he gasped… I didn't know what to think. Why on earth would he gasp?

I became upset at his reaction to touching me and, as forcefully as possible (which wasn't much), moved his arm away. Before I knew it, I was scooped up into a cradle. All I wanted to do was kick and scream at him to put me down, yet I was tired. It kept coming in waves. When I looked up at Blaine, I found him staring at me on the brink of crying. Fuck. Maybe, just maybe, he knew about my diet, so he thinks that I fainted because of the lack of food.

As we passed the Warblers outside the room on the way to the nurse's, I didn't want to look up and be humiliated. Fainting was enough. Having to look them in the eye? No. Too much.

A small but soft bed awaited me in the nurse's office. Blaine so kindly took my blazer and shoes off for me to be more comfortable. I watched silently as the nurse bustled, terrified at her finding out my secret.

"Have you eaten today?" she asked me. No, I haven't eaten anything in two days, barely anything for the past months.

"Uhm, yeah," I hoped my answer was sufficient. It was a lie in my head. Luckily the nurse just prescribed fruit juice. I could tolerate a few light calories, sure. Once she left to go get that, it was just Blaine and I sitting in the quiet. I faked being really sleepy as to avoid Blaine's critiquing eyes and awkward silence.

"Why did you lie?" he broke. Fuck fuck fuck. Facade, Kurt, come on!

"Lie about what?" I tried for innocent. Blaine deflated visibly.

"About eating today," he stated. My mind was screaming, "FUUUCK," as loudly as possible. He knows? He has an idea at least. Thank god for of the nurse saving my ass with a cup of fruit juice and promptly left again. Blaine helped me sit up, and I sipped at the drink slowly, stretching out the time to stall for a talk with my boyfriend. He struck as soon as I finished.

"Talk to me, baby. I need to understand. I can't sit back and watch you get sick. Why are you doing this to yourself?" he all but yelled, clutching my hand desperately. My heart broke, but I needed the hunger. It makes me feel something. My secret.

"I've just been really stressed out from falling behind in classes. Dalton has been so much more difficult academic-wise," I admitted. It wasn't a complete lie, just not the entire truth. Luckily, Blaine bought it.

"_Kurt_," he whined, "Why didn't you tell me? I could help you!" he exclaimed. I smiled at his desire to help.

"I'm sorry. I thought I could do it on my own," I shrugged. Can you say Golden Globe-worthy performance? Blaine kissed my forehead and sat down again.

"You don't have to do anything alone. We can start studying together more. You're never alone. I love you," he added. I smiled. This could work.

**Blaine's POV**

After the fainting scare yesterday, I laid out plans for studying with Kurt. Tuesdays were homework-heavy, so today was the perfect day to start out helping him. During the scheduled study hall, I met up with my boyfriend in the Warblers' practice room.

"In order to get the final answer, you need to cancel those out like normal," I was saying, pointing at the paper but checking to see if Kurt understood.

"They can be cancelled?" he questioned.

"Yes. It's just something you have to memorize." He sighed in response and hung his head in his hands. I took pity on him and grabbed one of them in my hands.

"Baby, your hands are freezing," I commented cautiously. Kurt shrugged defeatedly. Cold hands meant low blood pressure. That was common sense from health class I took in the summer.

"You need to tell me, have you eaten today?" I pushed. I needed to know. Low blood pressure was a problem, right? And it sometimes came from not eating. My thoughts were interrupted as Kurt pushed away from me violently. He stood up in front of me with a fixed glare.

"That's none of your business. Leave it alone, Blaine," he spat at me. I was shocked. Never ever ever ever never ever never have I seen him freak out like that. I know he can be sassy and bitchy in a funny way, but this… it wasn't like him.

"Calm down, Kurt. I'm just worried for you," I reached out for his hand, but he stepped back once more, shaking his head.

"I will not calm down. You're getting on my nerves. Back off!" Kurt was now yelling, shaking with rage in front of my face. The anger must've proved stronger than his weak state because he went faint for a second, legs wobbling dangerously. Fuck. Not again.

"Whoa, hey," I jumped up to help him.

"It's fine. I'm fine," he shrugged me off. "I have to go," he excused. I was silent as he picked up his books and school bag. I didn't know what to do, or think. This was a lot more serious than I thought. I sat back down on the couch, wondering what just happened. I referred back to what set him off: food. My mind whirred but finally clicked. Kurt's probably not eating on purpose. A dry sob rand through me even at the thought.

**Kurt's POV**

"In order to get the final answer, you need to cancel those out like normal," Blaine was teaching me patiently. Numbers and words swam in my head. We had only been studying for thirty minutes in the Warblers' room.

"They can be cancelled?" I tried to calmly ask, but everything was bogging my mind up too much. Deep breaths, Kurt. It'll get easier… Maybe.

"Yes. It's just something you have to memorize," Blaine said unfortunately. I gave up. I hid my face in my hands so Blaine couldn't see the frustrated tears springing in my eyes. I felt warm hands around mine.

"Baby, your hands are freezing," Blaine mentioned in a low, sweet voice. It was comforting. I simply acknowledged his remark with a shrug. Silence for a moment.

"You need to tell me, have you eaten today?" I shot up from my seat without a thought.

"That's none of your business. Leave it _alone_, Blaine," I voiced with some venom. I could only see red. My boyfriend was stunned but his eyes still held that stupid sympathetic sadness. It's my secret. No one can know because no one will understand.

"Calm down, Kurt. I'm just worried for you," he tried to placate me. Does he know how hard it is for me? He can sit there looking so fit and lean. I look like a fucking cow next to him. How could he possibly understand? With my pasty and cellulite-textured skin and double chin and the thick, jiggly legs? He had no place to talk.

"I will not calm down," I countered. The red vision was merging slowly into black, but I continued. "You're getting on my nerves. Back off!" I screamed. The exertion forced my consciousness to falter a bit. No, no, no, no, no, no, don't faint.

"Whoa, hey," Blaine quipped. He reached out for my arm, but I could only think of the flabbiness, and I slipped back into full consciousness, avoiding the touch.

"It's fine. I'm fine," I tried to play it off. I needed to get out of there. Blaine's puppy eyes were boring into me too much. Therefore, I mumbled an excuse and gathered my stuff to head to my dorm room. As I left Blaine alone in the empty room, I could make out a soft crying sounds. I simply broke into a run, ignoring the still blurry vision from being lightheaded, and arrived at my dorm. Once safely inside, I let the floodgates open as I curled up on the floor, clutching my throbbing stomach.

I just want to be _skinny_.


	5. Speaking Out

**Blaine's POV**

A week has passed since Kurt's freak out on me. In that time, I confirmed that Kurt wasn't eating. I never saw him at any meals, and, if possible, it seems he gets thinner and thinner every day. Sicker and sicker. My mood decreasing more and more. He won't talk to me or anybody, but I'm glad he will still be in my presence. Luckily I got study hall in every class, so, on a nice Friday noon, I found myself full of depressive thoughts, maybe a bit of helplessness, and in the Dalton clinic.

"What can I do for you today, Mr. Anderson? Are you feeling alright?" she asked me. I felt comfortable confiding in her, but this was the first the I voiced my concern about Kurt to anyone, including myself, out loud. I was nervous. I wrung my hands.

"Uhm… Well, I feel fine. I just, uh, have a health concern about a friend of mine."

"Your boyfriend?" she guessed to my surprise. If she noticed something troubling about Kurt, then it must be awful. She noticed my incredulous face and sighed.

"Let's come into my office," she offered and led me into a small room with a desk and chairs.

"What can I help you with?" she repeated. I took in a deep breath and began, trying to stay calm.

"He's not eating. At all. I never see him eat, and I'm with him all the time. And he's getting thinner. I don't know how that' even possible because he's a damn skeleton now. Every single bone inn his body, even though he won't let me undress him. He's killing himself, and I have to watch!" I finished. I bared nothing, having no shame. I didn't notice the tears on my face until the nurse handed me tissues. I inhaled deeply. What a relief it was to just ay it all out.

"Sweetie, that must be really hard on you," she placated me. I sniffled like a baby and just nodded, dabbing my eyes once more. "Do you know why he would starve himself?" she asked bluntly, not skirting around the problem.

"He keeps passing it off as having stress, and that's what I say when people ask me if he's alright, but this morning…" I trailed off.

"What happened this morning?"

"I straight up asks whim if he thought he was fat," I murmured dejectedly.

"And?" she prompted once more.

"He slapped me and ran out crying," I said, tears springing into my eyes again. Yeah, that slap stung a bit, but the pain in Kurt's eyes was unbearable to witness. I did that.

"Oh, dear," the nurse sighed. I broke out sobbing.

"Blaine, shhh, honey. It's okay," she tried. I was very appreciate of the motherly comfort.

"I j-just d-don't know w-what to do!" I wailed.

"Okay, here's the deal," she interrupted I quieted quickly with a hiccough. "I will call him in and just do a check-up from that fainting episode last week, but I'll throw in a weigh-in," she said confidently. It was a perfect idea to get him to come, and I voiced my comment.

"We'll get him back on track, okay?" she soothed. I nodded.

"Thank you so much."

"It's my job," she chuckled. "Tell him to come down to the clinic at the end of school today." I agreed and left, a weight on my shoulders lifted slightly. Why is everything about weight now?

**Kurt's POV **

School let out on Friday, and I was excited to see my family. Last week, my dad and Carole had to go to some political convention in Columbus all weekend. Today I would be heading up there and relax, maybe go shopping at the mall. However, my plans were delayed momentarily when I was escorted to the school clinic at last period by Blaine who only said, "Have a good weekend, Kurt," and kissed my cheek.

I was pissed.

"Hey, Mr. Hummel. Thank you, Blaine," she excused. Blaine left the room. Suddenly my protection was gone. The nurse stared at me with scrutinizing eyes. I held my breath.

"I just wanted to check up on you to see if you were still feeling faint." I still sat stock still in a chair. The nurse flitted around and finally brought the blood pressure machine over. After the mechanism stopped the death grip on my flab, she read off my stats.

"Kurt," she began with trepidation, "Your heart rate is abnormally slow." I stared up at her. What?

"I want to see something else. Come over here," she said and led me to a scale. Absolutely not.

"Uhm… that's not necessary," I tried to say without a shake in my voice but to no avail.

"Why not?" she asked. I shook my head as if to say "no."

"I just want to see, Kurt."

"I want to know why," I snapped without my conscience's permission. She blinked a bit, but I made no sign of apologizing, so she switched her tactic.

"Get on the scale, honey. Now!" she said with an edge in her voice. I saw no way out. Through my tears, I stood on the scale and watched her fiddle around with he goddamned weights.

"How tall are you?" she asked sweetly as if she didn't make me flinch before.

"Five ten," I replied. She hummed and wrote some things down, leaving me to sweat.

"How long have you been starving yourself?" she asked sternly. It felt like my world suddenly crumbled around me. My chest tightened.

"W-what?" I choked out, hands shaking.

"You can almost be classified as anorexic," the nurse stated. I stayed silent. To me, the statement didn't matter because the mirror told a different story.

"You'e going home this weekend, right?" I nodded in reply. "Let's see how you do. Eat something, and I'll check back on you," she begged. Lie. Lie. Get out of there. LIE.

"Okay, I will," I tried for a smile. The nurse stared at me for a bit then released me to drive home. I walked out of Dalton fuming as if the incident with Blaine asking me if I was fat was trivial. Luckily, the music calmed me along the fairly long drive. Carole was grocery shopping, my dad still at work, and Finn was working on an arrangement for Rach- New Directions at Rachel's house. Still, I was happy to be home. I put my stuff down in my room and lied on my bed. The aroma of home overwhelmed me, and I grew sleepy. I could use a nap. I yawned and fell asleep snuggled in my big, white comforter. The black enveloped me, and, naturally, I lost track of time. Carole was shaking me awake.

"Hey, Kurt. Glad you're home," she greeted sweetly. I smiled tiredly and pushed my hair out of my eyes.

"Glad to be home," I said.

"Dinner is on the table. Come when you're ready," Carole said and walked out of my room. Shit. Okay, what did I remember from that Pro-Ana website once? Sit with a napkin in your lap and stuff food in it, pushed and arrange the food, mints suppress appetite, water fills you up, blue plates, and talk a lot. Got it. Lazily, I got up and noticed my wrinkly Dalton uniform that I had dumbly slept in. I changed into sweatpants and a baggy shirt, my normal. In the kitchen, Carole was finishing a casserole.

"Need help with anything?" I asked. She turned to look at me and gaped, dropping the ceramic plates for the table. What the actual fuck? Geez, I know I don't usually wear lounge clothes, but she seriously shattered the plate!

"Okay, now you do," I sarcastically said.

"Honey? You okay?" I suddenly heard my dad from another room.

"Yes! It's fine!" she yelled back. "You're…" she turned to me.

"Yes?" I prompted. That shook her out of whatever this was. Odd.

"You're, uh, you're not wearing shoes!" She was right though.

"Just go sit. I think your dad's home," she waved me off. I shrugged and went to the dining room where my father was already sitting.

"Hi, Dad," I said happily and simply.

"Hey, kid!" he greeted, getting up from the table to hug me. "Good to see you!" He embraced me, and I leaned into his touch. Every time I come home, it's a sweet reunion, even if I hadn't seen them in a week.

"You lost a lot of weight. Are they feeding you at that fancy school?" he asked with deep concern in his voice and eyes. Don't look at me like that, Dad.

"Of course, Dad. I've just hit a rough patch academically. Don't worry though. It'll pass," I lied. Oh how I lied. Every time pushing me further into a numb limbo.

"Well, a good home meal will do you well," Carole interrupted as she walked in and laid the last dish on the table with new plates. My father agreed. We all sat down minus Finn. God help that boy.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Why aren't you eating?" Carole asked. Why does that always happen? I'll get lost in my thoughts and completely lose my social skills and facade. Sometimes I won't be thinking anything at all. Just… numbness.

What do I say to Carole? The calories and fat and carbs and sodium in front of me made me nauseous. My mind stopped on that. Nausea. Never had I forced my food back up in fear of eroding my voice. Why not try in the comfort of home? I really was out of every other options. I'll get diet pills later, I suppose.

"Sorry, Carole. I spaced out," I smiled and picked up my fork to eat the first full meal in months. Why not eat everything in sight when it's just going to come back up again later? My mood elevated that night immensely. Plus, I got my parents off of my ass.


	6. It's Time to Begin

Blaine's POV

"I'm tired," Kurt yawned in my face. We had been lazily making out in my room since school let out. I was cautious to not touch Kurt anywhere other than his face in fear of his insecurity.

"Sleep," I commanded. "We have a while before dinner."

"Wu mu uh la'ur," he mumbled. I bit my lip to not chuckle. It would make my chest move and jolt Kurt who had snuggled up to me. My arms were under my head, and I just stared at the ceiling as his breath evened out slowly. I was alone with my thoughts.

I took a deep breath and brought an arm around to pet Kurt's hair. Today was interesting to say the least. After school, all the Warblers met up to practice like usual. During council announcements, the nurse walked in and asked for Kurt who was sitting by me. I was trying to warm his hands up with mine all practice long, but he had to leave with her.

He didn't return even when practice ended but came to my room later. I asked him if he was okay, but he didn't answer. Then we got a a little heated, me, as always, trying not to burst out into tears from the sight of his thinning body, visible self-torture, although he never took his shirt off. What shocked me was the fact that it was the first time in weeks that we got at least a little intimate.

Now he was sleeping. I stroked his hair. And strands came _out_. Not just two randoms hairs but maybe _twenty or thirty_. My breathing stopped. What the actual fuck? This wasn't normal. At all. I swallowed. Oh my god. What if he had cancer instead of an eating disorder? Had I been wrong? Suddenly, I got an idea, throwing the hair onto the floor.

Cautiously, I slipped out of Kurt's unconscious grip. He shuffled a bit and sighed reply but didn't wake up. I crept over to my laptop and opened a browser. Symptom checker websites had proven beneficial while at boarding school. On the site, I wrote in the symptoms that I knew for certain. Hair failing out, weight loss, fainting, cold body temperature. The search results procured anorexia nervosa, bulimia nervosa, and iron-deficiency anemia. My research began.

First, I looked at anemia because I didn't actually know much about it. The iron deficiency that comes from the lack of food was obvious, but the weight loss apparently stemmed from people with cancer. Wow, I suck at research. I'm just going to rule that one out. It's too difficult to understand.

Anorexia? Could I wrap my head around my boyfriend having an eating disorder? Chills, dizziness, bad breath, lanugo hair, brittle nails and hair, dry skin, hair loss… Heart failure. I became aware of hot tears cascading down my face. He was very sick. Fatally sick.

Reluctantly, I clicked on the last one: bulimia. Isn't that when you… Yes, it is, I saw. I wondered if Kurt had that. He ate in front of me at the Lima Bean, I remembered. Then… _went to the bathroom_. It would be really unfair of me to just assume something though. Great. More spying and taking notes on my boyfriend.

Kurt's POV

"Could you come with me, Mr. Hummel?" the nurse had interrupted our Warblers practice. I shakily got up from my spot on the leather couch next to Blaine. Embarrassment flooded my face when he had to help me up. I wanted to refuse. I even though of running away from the room, but the guys were watching. I quickly shuffled to her and followed her to the clinic.

"Well, I told you I would check up on you," she said, closing the door behind us, locking me in like a caged animal. Gulp.

"Can I ask if you ate or should I just weigh you?"

"I ate," I replied too quickly which received a suspicious look form her. "I ate," I reiterated, basically whispering now. I should have known that any odd behavior could be detected by nurses. That was their job.

"Scale. Now," she ordered with a tone that frankly scared the shit out of me. I complied reluctantly and nervously.

Kurt," she began, having switched her voice to soft and motherly suddenly. She had read the numbers that betrayed me so often. "I need to call your parents. This has gone too far."

"No," I whispered. My heart raced. _Too fast._ I have to sit down, I thought as the familiar blackness blurred my vision. The nurse noticed me paling and gently led me to a bed out in the clinic. She gripped me by the arm and held most of my weight. I was gaping for oxygen suddenly. I gripped my hair tightly, messing it out of place.

"Kurt, honey, you really need to calm down," she cooed, soothing my hair again. I couldn't contain the tears. I'm such a fuck-up.

"D-don't call them, please," I begged fervently, nausea creeping up. "I'll-I'll tell them myself!" I found myself pleading out of desperation. The nurse stared at me for what felt like hours, judging me.

"I'm going to let you do just that," she complied cautiously. I sniffled, wiping away my tears. "You can go now," she offered, and I scampered away to Blaine's room automatically for comfort. As soon as Blaine opened the floor, I… jumped him literally. I didn't care that he touched my flab. I needed him, and he allowed it. Let's block all thoughts.

"Tell me you love me," I whispered, choking up a bit. I just needed solace. Love. _Worth_.

"Always," he replied. He let me all the way into his room, arms still holding me tightly. "Why would you even question that?" he asked before crashing our lips together and moving to the bed.

"I love you," I mumbled between his perfect lips. He pulled away and stroked my cheek before making us fall onto the bed.

"Love you, too," he replied genuinely. We made out until I got too tired to even move my lips.

"Sleep," Blaine ordered. "We have a while before dinner."

"Wake me up later," I slurred and fell asleep.


	7. The Plans

Blaine's POV

"What's the significance of the fifth circle? What was Dante's purpose in the habitat here?" Mr. Whitten was prompting during my Thursday AP European History class. We were supposed to begin answering in our journals, but the class was interrupted.

"Excuse me, Ryan. Could I take Blaine out of class?" the nurse asked from the doorway. I popped my head up. What was wrong?

"Sure," my teacher answered. "Blaine, take your stuff. It's almost the end of the period anyway." What happened with Kurt?, I thought as I packed my books into my messenger bag. It was no surprise that the nurse led me into the clinic and back into her office like she had a couple of days ago. I must've had a look of bewilderment on my face, sitting in the same hard chair as before. I had no clue what was going on.

"I'm so sorry, Blaine," she began. Her aging face was full of sympathy.

"For…" I prompted without manners.

"Kurt's situation is difficult to understand and treat as it is, for the most part, a psychological problem." My normal straight posture let loose as I slumped into the office chair.

"What do you know about anorexia?" she asked, clasping her hands under her chin.

"I know that all the symptoms Kurt has aligns with it," I answered honestly. She nodded pensively.

"He's not doing well. Actually, he's awful," she bluntly stated.

"What did you tell him when you took him out of Warblers practice yesterday?" I wondered aloud.

"I weighed him. He's lost weight," she informed me.

"Shit," I breathed out, letting my head fall. She made no sign of reprimanding my language.

"We need to work together as a team here," the nurse began. "I let him off the hook for this weekend in hopes that he'll tell his parents, but I know he won't," she sighed.

"I assume you have met his parents?"

"Yes. I know them well," I replied with a sigh.

"It may be time to just talk to them instead of Kurt."

"I know," I confirmed. I ran my hands through my gelled hair. Ew. "What can I do?"

"Help him or push him to talk to his family. It won't be as simple to do than said," she sighed. I hummed agreement, already planning. We were silent. The gravity of the situation weighed us down. The inspirational posters on the walls of the nurse's office seemed to mock the conversation. It was disgustingly ironic.

"How long do we have?" I choked out. I didn't really even understand my own question. How long did he have until it got so bad he was debilitated? Or until he starved himself out completely, dying a skeleton? My thoughts began to deviate away from those questions and came up with new ones. I started spewing word vomit.

"Could he ever get better? How will he get better? Will he go to some rehab place in Colorado? Will there be lasting damage?"

"Blaine," she stopped me. Surprisingly, her eyes filled with tears. "He can get better, but, if we don't do something now, he _will_ have serious problems. That's as much as I can tell you." Yet again, I found myself crying my eyes out in the nurses's office; she offered me a tissue. It was just too much to actually hear out loud the severity of the issue.

"I-I think I k-know what to do," I said finally. Honestly? That was a lie. She nodded and tried to smile though.

"We can help him, Blaine," she comforted me. I left the office, my mood totally ruined. Dalton students were rushing around me, but I felt so detached. What exactly could I do?

The rest of the day went by in a flurry of homework and a Warblers practice. Kurt gave me my distance as my head remained in the clouds. It wasn't the best mental state to be in as I fell asleep that night, a terrible nightmare taking over my troubled mind.

"Make it stop, Blaine. I can't take this. I'm so cold. Please. Help me," dream Kurt pled on a hospital gurney. Tears sprung to my eyes at his begging but also his current state: desperate, weak, withering away, eroded. Lying on his bed with him attached to many wires, I scooped him up in my arms. They could wrap around twice. I wondered, if we were to be completely silent, to stop breathing, if our radically different body temperatures would make our skin give off sizzling noises. I nuzzled gently into his body, trying to be a human space heater, alone in the morbid hospital room.

"I love you," I breathed out. He coughed, covering his mouth but revealed a bit of blood on his lips. I found tissues on the side table.

"I'm disgusting, Blaine. Worthless," he responded. I stared into his blue eyes.

"You're beautiful. You're my heart, Kurt. You just need help to see how incredible you are," I comforted. His breathing hitched and the heart monitor attached to his frail, pale chest did as well.

"I need help," he whispered before all the monitors in the room began beeping and flashing.

"Kurt? Kurt!" I cried out. He had begun to gasp for breath, eyes wide with panic.

"I'm sorry, Blaine," he choked out. "It's too late to try."

"No!" I yelled loudly. I called for nurses frantically in the empty hallway and returned to his bedside again. Tears ran down my face and fell onto Kurt's taut skin stretched over protruding bones. "Don't you dare leave me." My heart was breaking in two.

"Am I beautiful yet?" he whispered. I knew. Somehow in my dream I knew these were his last breaths. Where were the fucking doctors?

"Yes, baby. You've always been the prettiest," I affirmed, kissing his face all over. He nodded, took one deep breath in, but never breathed out. His glasz eyes never opened again.

I vomited onto the linoleum as his deathbed weight flashed on the plain walls. 100 pounds. 100. 100. 100. Weightless. I gathered his corpse into my arms and let out a wail long and loud over the flatline of his shrunken heart. Suddenly, my own voice transformed into a siren sound. Doctors rushed in speaking frantically in terms I couldn't understand even if I had done well in my summer Health class.

"BLAINE! GODDAMNIT, WAKE UP!" I woke up to a crazed roommate. Wes had one hand on my shoulder. His eyes were full of questions. Tears ran down my face rapidly. I lied back down on my pillow and curled up in a ball, turning away from the Friday sun peeking in our dorm room. My body was racked with sobs. Kurt. 100. Kurt. Kurt. In the dre-nightmare, Kurt voiced his desire for help, but it was too late.

"Blaine, please. What's wrong?" Wes begged. He then literally man-handled me and made me sit up. Quickly, he sat on my bed to envelope me in a hug. It was more a support to stay up than anything. I sobbed and sobbed, breath hitching drastically.

"He-he-he's gonna die!" I wailed helplessly, a bit muffled in Wes's shirt I had put my face into.

"Who, Blaine?"

"K-kurt!" I cried. New tears seemed to form at his name. "I h-have to go," I said, pushing out of my friend's grip and exchanging my pajamas for the Dalton uniform. Wes opened his mouth to speak but shut it. I ran around our room, drying my tears and gelling my hair simultaneously. In a short time, I grabbed my bag and headed out the door without a word.

I stepped outside the housing building and started on an early morning walk on the grounds. I needed to organize my thoughts and get that fucking dream out of my head.

What did I already know? Kurt had anorexia, his parents didn't know, and Kurt didn't think he had a problem. What I didn't know was how much he weighed exactly, how his parents would handle it, or why Kurt started starving himself in the first place. Anorexics had goals for themselves, right? They, I guess, had an idea of what a perfect body should look like. Wow, I really didn't know shit about this. Without thinking, I whipped out my phone from my pocket. Knowing Carole was a nurse and had to be up early for work anyway, I decided to make a call.

"Hello, Carole? It's Blaine," I greeted Kurt's stepmother cordially, trying to pretend like I hadn't been crying. I made my way back to the main Dalton building seeing as my walking and thinking had actually taken up a considerable amount of time. School was beginning in a little bit.

"Blaine! What can I do for you?" she asked.

"Well, I needed to talk to you about Kurt," I responded with hesitation.

"I may know what it is, but continue," she said. Her change of voice shocked me and made me believe that statement.

"Kurt has had a significant amount of purposed weight loss. Everything really escalated when he fainted a week or so ago. The nurse is keeping a very close eye on him, but he needs help immediately. She says it's gotten too severe," I blurted out all at once. Hopefully she could understand me… There was a rush of noise on the other line. I stopped walking briefly, stepping aside to the wall of an empty hallway.

"I was scared of my assumptions being true. He doesn't look like himself anymore," she sighed with cracks in her voice. I heard sniffling on the phone as I stood in the corridor.

"We need to confront him," I said. "Would it be possible for me to come over tomorrow for dinner? Maybe that will push him," I suggested. My plan wasn't exactly foolproof, but at least I would have backup when it came to Kurt's outbursts I know he could have.

"Yes. Absolutely," she agreed. I sighed in relief.

"Great. I'll see you later then," I said. We exchanged polite farewells, and I clicked my phone off. Come on, Blaine. Get through the day, and this situation will be brought into light. I continued my trek to the classroom. Kurt was already sitting at his desk, so I slipped right beside him and kissed his cheek.

"Hello," I said, getting myself situated in a desk, but, before he could reply, our teacher came in to begin class. I pulled out a sheet of paper and quickly scrawled a note to pass to Kurt.

_Can I come to family dinner tonight?_

I watched his face screw up in thought as he read it then scribbled a reply to pass back.

_What's going on?_

_My parents are out of town, and I don't feel like being alone. _

Just for good measures, I drew a sad puppy dog beside my line. He smiled when he saw it. After a few moments, he wrote a reply.

_Sure, I guess. Meet me by my car after last period?_

I turned to him and gave him a thumbs up. He chuckled, and we both turned to pay attention to the lesson. I felt a bit happier because this plan seemed to pretty good.

Kurt's POV

Friday morning was one of the tougher times getting up for school. My hunger pains kept me awake until past two in the morning. Knowing I would be running on a few hours of sleep for the day, I dragged myself out of bed already in a glum mood. Just like every morning and night, I weighed myself on the scale in my bathroom. The numbers had been decreasing well over the past week or so despite Blaine and the nurse's interventions. It wasn't at the place that I wanted, but, at the rate it was dropping, it would take a month or two more. I jotted the number down in my journal and got ready for school.

With a huge cup of black coffee in my system, I felt sort of ready to conquer the day as I sat in the History classroom before the bell rang. A draft of raspberry-scented gel blew past me as Blaine hurried into the room.

"Hi," Blaine greeted. He appeared by my side and kissed my cheek. I smiled back. He had arrived just in time for class to start, and our teacher was talking to us about our lesson for the day. Suddenly, Blaine pushed a small piece of paper to me.

_Can I come to family dinner tonight?_

I internally groaned. The dreaded Friday dinners where I was required to eat? Well, having Blaine around meant I couldn't purge the meal afterwards. What was I supposed to do?

_What's going on?_

_My parents are out of town, and I don't feel like being alone. _

What a suck up. I bit my lip. What's one more lie? I wrote back.

_Sure, I guess. Meet me by my car after last period?_

Now to come up with a plan. One excuse I hadn't made in front of Blaine was feeling nauseous. The problem is that I used that with my parent last week. Too bad I didn't have a dog that could eat up scraps from the floor. I could always try the hiding-food-in-napkin trick. Rearrange the food to make it seem like I ate more than I actually did. Start a fight and refuse to come out of my room. Pretend to be so tired I couldn't possibly even lift a fork to my mouth.

Yeah, I can do today easily.


	8. Keeping Promises

**Blaine's POV**

"What's Carole making today?" I asked Kurt when we walked up to his house. He messed with the keys before getting the door open for us.

"I'm not sure. Maybe salmon," he replied. "Hey, dad! Hey, Carole!" he called once inside the house.

"It smells good," I commented hadn't really talked during the car ride, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. It was simply a Friday, school's-out silence. I could do that. Everything was good so far.

"Thank you," Carole said, appearing in the doorway of the kitchen, a frilly apron tied around her waist. She gave Kurt a hug, sending me a concerned glance. I knew she couldn't feel the bones through all the layers Kurt had dressed in, but Kurt's gaunt face said a lot already. Kurt had stiffened in her arms awkwardly but returned the embrace. Carole then turned to me to give me a hug, too. It felt sweeter, more comforting than ever for some reason.

"I hope you're hungry, boys. Dinner will be ready in an hour," she informed and went back into the kitchen. Kurt and I trudged upstairs and dropped our backpacks on the floor of Kurt's room. I laughed when Kurt groaned and flopped on the bed, face down in the pillow. I sat by him and stroked his back.

"Happy that the week is over?" I chuckled still.

"Yeah," Kurt turned his head to say. I started petting his head. "Homework is brutal. I'm just a lowly public school boy!" he lamented. We both giggled.

"Do you want to work on homework until dinner's ready?" I offered. He sighed dramatically.

"Yes, I suppose," he sassed and pushed himself off the bed to open his backpack.

We set to work for a while, familiar with how we do homework sessions. Suddenly we heard heavy footsteps. Burt showed up in the doorway and saw us studying, books spread all around us on the floor.

"We never studied had as much as you kids do today," he interrupted with a laugh.

"Giving us too much information and expecting us to regurgitate it all is a flaw in the education system today," I retorted lightly.

"Maybe you should propose an education reform in Congress, dad," Kurt joined in, too. We laughed. This I could handle. Everything was still good until…

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that dinner's ready. Blaine, why don't you head down there? I have to talk with Kurt," Burt said. I took my cue and left, pretending to ignore Kurt's nonverbal expression pleading me to stay. I made my way to the kitchen, leaving father and son alone.

**Burt's POV**

Blaine scurried off, leaving me with my son. It had been a tiring day at work and then I had gotten a call from Carole who basically told me Kurt had an eating disorder. Was that why he was so thin last time I saw him? This was another one of those moments when I was eternally grateful for having a mother-figure in Carole to look after some things that I can overlook.

I stood over him because he was sitting on the floor. His head was down.

"No hug for your old man?" I asked. Why was talking to my son so awkward now? He stood, and I reached out of this arm to pull into into a hug, but I felt my own fingers touch each other even when wrapped around his wrist.

"Kurt," I began gravely. "You're skin and bones." It was silent for a moment.

"Okay, dad," he whispered. I hugged him gently.

"Why aren't you eating?"

"I am."

"Not enough."

"What's your point here, dad?" his patience spiked.

"Eat, or we'll have to look into different doctors to help you."

**Kurt's POV**

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary or put me in a bad mood until Dad talked to me.

Trapped.

They're making me eat tonight. They're watching me tonight.

I'm infuriated at my dad for doing this, staring me down like that. Then he mocked me by calling me "skin and bones." I'm not in any way. I never see any bones with my body. There's only fat. Gross, disgusting, jiggly fat. There was no way I was going to eat tonight.

So I didn't. I sat at the table, ignoring all of their eyes yet knowing they were on me.

"Kurt," Carole started. Here we go. "Is it not good?" she asked me. I leaned back in my seat.

"I just don't feel well," I brushed off. Blaine, who was sitting adjacent to me, put his fork down and hung his head in his hands. It was silent, then he gave a shuddery breath and looked up at me.

"I'm sorry, baby," Blaine whispered. It almost physically startled me to see the sparkling tears in his hazel eyes. Why was he- Oh no.

"I won't hesitate to force food down your throat, Kurt," Burt stepped in. "Eat."

"No," I retorted immediately. I was not going to commandeered like that. This was insane. What the fuck were they trying to accomplish here?

"Eat, NOW!" my father yelled at me, slamming his fists forcefully down upon the table. Everybody jumped. I could count on one hand that times that my father had ever raised his voice at me like that.

"No," I repeated.

"If you don't eat all of that food on your plate, I'm taking you to the hospital immediately." There. That was the ultimatum. I slowly picked up my fork and ate. I ate all of the food on that damn plate just to placate my father. A hospital wasn't needed. Maybe a toilet to hurl into, but I know everyone would be watching or listening for that.

After dinner, the plates were being cleaned up by Carole. My dad sat to watch his nightly TV, and Blaine sat with me at the dining table still. If I moved, I was going to-

"I'm going on a walk," I found myself saying. I pulled on a coat, scarves, and mittens, about to head out the door when my dad yelled out.

"Blaine goes with you." Like he's some pet needing to be walked. Shitshitshitshitshit. My head reeled in fury because Blaine would surely thwart my plan.

"Fine," I gritted my teeth and said, reaching to pull Blaine quickly out the front door with me.

"Hey!" he yelped. I let go of him and turned to the direction of the park.

**Blaine's POV**

"Where are we going?" I asked cautiously to the huddled figure sulking along the sidewalk in front of me.

"To the park." I was surprised he answered me. I stayed silent, very afraid of his capricious behaviour. The park was a decent ten-minute walk from the Hummel house. Since it was night and there was a serious lack of streetlights, the place had an eerie quality to it. The swing sets' chains clanged as the wind rustled through the trees to the playground. Kurt stopped walking and stood there to look around.

"What are we-" I began to say, but Kurt turned to me in a flash of the eye with a look of danger across his shadowed-face.

"I love you, but I can't believe you did that to me."

"You need h-help," my voice shook from fear. Kurt snorted.

"I never needed help, love, but I need a favor now," he lowered his voice. My eyebrows furrowed.

"Okay?"

"You have to promise not to tell."

"Tell what?"

"Do you promise?"

"I want to know what I'm keeping a secret."

"Just fucking promise me, Blaine," he bit out.

"Okay, okay, FINE. I promise."

"Good. I love you."

"I love you, too," I sighed.

"Stay right here."

"Why? Where are you going?"

"Over there."

"Where?"

"You ask too many questions."

"What the fuck are you going to do?"

"Just fucking stay here, Blaine! God!" he yelled. I flinched at the level of his voice for how late it was but stayed quiet nonetheless. He stared at me before walking away in the direction of the playground. I only heard his footsteps because the darkness had enveloped him, limiting my vision.

It was too quiet, too creepy. I felt uncomfortable, pulling my jacket closer to my body. Then.

The telltale sounds of retching and vomiting.

So I broke out running in the direction of it. He stood by a trash can, bent over, and heaving. Any doubt of Kurt being bulimic was far out the door.

"Kurt! Stop!" I said harshly, hoping my firmness would get to him. He turned to me and narrowed his eyes, reaching his hand back into his mouth. He gagged and puked violently right in front of me. I stepped closer to him, an arm's distance away now. He picked his head back up, gasping.

"Don't do it again," I spoke in a tone like reprimanding a really annoying child. To my surprise, he moved his hand to stick his fingers down his throat yet again, but I slapped it away and held on. With his other hand, he made himself throw up again. He hung his head low into the trash can, the arm I held formed a tight fist and trembled at the force of his vomiting.

"God, Kurt," I whimpered, letting go. He coughed a couple of times, spitting a bit into the can. The tears came to my eyes faster than I could ward them off. They rolled down my face, making my sinuses go runny.

"Please, Kurt," I cried. He turned his head to look at me. The shadows cast on his face pointed out the bones in a sickly manner. "Don't do it again," I repeated myself, but it was more of a begging tone than anything else.

"I have to," he rasped out. His vocal cords were literally eroding away.

"Why do you have to? It's not healthy. It's killing you. You're too thin." I cried even more, flailing my arms around in a showy manner.

"I'm too fucking fat, Blaine! Don't tell me that I'm thin when I can see for myself that it's a lie," he said desperately.

"Oh my god," I breathed. "You can't even see it. God, Kurt, you really need help."

"If it's liposuction, I'll take that help," he murmured and opened his mouth again.

"Don't!" I said, grabbing his hand.

"Why do you care so much?" he snarled.

"Because I'm terrified of losing you, Kurt," I answered with brutal honesty. I could see his expression soften.

"Let go of me. It's just one more," he whispered. I stared into his blue eyes, my heart thumping, and I…

Well, I let him hurl for the fourth time.

**Kurt's POV**

The walk home was tough for me. I was used to being able to sit down after purging, not exercising more. I tripped over my own feet once, embarrassingly enough, falling on my hands and knees to the concrete.

"Are you okay?" Blaine choked out. I really can't believe I subjected him to that episode by the playground, but my greater, more dominant side was still very angry that he deliberately told on me and didn't stay where he was.

"Ugh, I'm fine," I mumbled, attempting to push myself up. If Blaine hadn't helped me, I wouldn't have been able to get up. My arms, my whole body, was too exhausted from purging.

"Can I carry you?"

"I'm too heavy, Blaine," I sighed, tired of trying to explain, trudging past him.

"Get on my back then."

"Fine," I relented, knowing he wouldn't necessarily feel all of my weight. With a little jump, I hopped onto his back, letting him adjust before he continued to walk. When we turned onto my street and caught sight of the house, I twisted my neck to speak into Blaine's ear.

"Remember. You promised you wouldn't tell."

In the light of the street lamps, I saw Blaine gulp. The way he was brought up, promises were always kept no matter what.


	9. Father-Son Phone Call

**CALL FROM BURT HUMMEL**

"Hey, dad."

_"Hey, buddy. How are you?"_

"Busy. I've got a paper due tomorrow."

_"Sucks for you."_

"Hey!"

_"I'm only half-kidding."_

"Very funny, Dad. So why'd you call?"

_"What? Does an old man really need a reason to talk with his son?"_

"There's a motive behind this. I can tell."

_"Okay, fine. I just wanted to see how you are doing."_

"How I'm doing?"

_"Like, are you eating well?"_

"Fine, Dad."

_"Don't lie to me Kurt. Let's talk about this."_

"There's nothing to discuss!"

_"Well, as your father, I'm obligated to care for your health."_

"I'm an obligation?"

_"That's not what I meant, Kurt."_

"Okay…"

_"I just want to know why."_

"Why what?"

_"Well, why you don't eat and why you're so skinny now."_

"I'm not talking about this."

_"Is it because of bullies?"_

"No, Dad."

_"Is it because you feel sick?"_

"No."

_"Do you think you're fat?"_

"Why are you questioning me so much?"

_"Because you look so sick, Kurt. You have no energy or personality anymore. It's getting to be too much."_

"Gee, thanks."

_"I think you have a very serious problem."_

"No, I don't."

_"And I think that you deny it."_

"…"

_"If you don't start making changes within the week, I'm looking into doctors to help you get back on your feet."_

"Sure, Dad. Whatever."

_"Go on with your schoolwork."_

"Yeah."

_"I love you, son."_

"Love you."


	10. Room 516

**KURT'S POV**

It's been two weeks since I went home for the weekend, but, knowing (and dreading) that I would have to actually eat food, I decided to run on the Dalton trail before school started on Friday morning. I needed to clear my head, shake off the odd haze I've been stuck in all week.

I skipped school on Tuesday, opting to sleep in. Blaine was so kind as to tell the administration that I wasn't feeling well which was nothing but the truth. Apparently, the nurse wanted to see me in her office, but I slept off the spinning feeling for eight straight hours, then slept another perfect seven that night as well.

During my Wednesday biology class, my chest began aching, and I couldn't seem to catch my breath. My teacher excused me, and I'm glad Blaine wasn't there to start fretting about me and getting on my case.

Again, the feeling went away, so I thought nothing of it.

Typically, I sit in my dorm while all of the other boys go eat dinner in the community dining hall. On Thursday, like always, Blaine knocked on the door to invite me to eat with him except this time he brought a tray of food. I have no clue as to how he got it before the serving bell, but I was too focused on him cornering me.

"Hey, baby," he greeted happily. Oh, this was going to go downhill quickly.

"Hi," I said blankly and let him come into my room.

"I brought you dinner today!" he demonstrated the plate of pasta and vegetables.

"I can see that."

"Will you eat it with me?" he pled.

"Blaine," I sighed, and his face fell. God, I hated constantly bringing his mood down. "I have a lot of homework to do."

"You've had all afternoon to do it," he retorted.

"Like I said, it's a lot." I turned back to my desk and stared at the textbook in front of me pretending to read. Blaine startled me by placing his hands on my shoulders after setting the food beside me.

"You're skeletal, baby."

Furious. I felt rage course through my veins, and my skin prickled.

"Fuck you, Blaine," I snapped. "Fuck you and Carole and the nurse and my dad. You don't get to be in my face with everything," I spewed viciously, still sitting. Blaine's hazel eyes filled with tears, many emotions ran across his face. I felt extremely guilty but didn't say anything. We just sat and stared at each other for a while, then he reached for my hand, which I allowed. The air changed.

"How much do you weigh?"

"Too much."

"What do you eat?"

"Water, coffee, apples, and crackers."

"Do you throw it up?"

"Not unless I want to."

"When will you stop?"

"When I reach my goal."

"Which is..?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Of course." His hand wandered to my wrist gently. His fingers caressed my wrist, wrapping around. They touched, even overlapped, each other. Again his hand wandered up, both hands traveling to my shoulders. Slowly, he pulled my big zip-up jacket off of my shoulders and helped me to stand from the chair.

It was so quiet. I let him lead me to my bed. We stood there and stared into each other's eyes, breathing in the silence. A hand traveled up my right arm.

His fingers wrapped around my bicep and just barely touched, but he had to squeeze. Blaine lifted an eyebrow at me.

"What do you think of that?"

"Fat."

He sucked in a breath and let it out with a whoosh. Suddenly, my lounge shirt was being lifted. I moved quickly on instinct to tug his hands away, but he was quicker to steady me.

"Stop struggling, Kurt," he whispered, sending a shiver through my body. I would've made a joke as to how creepy that command sounded, but his eyes put me in a trance. He pulled my shirt off and walked me to the full-length mirror beside the bathroom. Standing behind me and resting his head on my shoulder, Blaine's hand roamed over my body, which I was staring at in the mirror.

He traced my collarbones, sternum, ribs, hipbones. Soft skin = fat.

"What do you think of that?"

"Disgusting."

"Do you not see how your bones show?"

"No." Blaine slid his own shirt off and stood by my side. Our skin tones were stark contrasts.

"Do you think I'm fat?"

"No."

"What am I?"

"Fit. Lean. Beautiful," I listed off.

"What. Am. I?" he reiterated. My mind skipped a step, but I finally understood his question, and my breath hitched with emotion.

"My boyfriend."

"I love you very much, Kurt, and I need you to know that you're going too far with this."

"I… love you, too."

"Will you admit that you have a problem?" he asked, stepping closer to me, skin touching mine, breath ghosting over my lips.

"Maybe." And he kissed me. Deeply. Took my breath away.

"Let me show you how beautiful I think you are."

"Blaine," I began to argue, but he walked us to the bed. We lied down. Slowly, achingly, Blaine slid my sweatpants and underwear off. He began working his mouth from my feet up.

Worshipping me.

"I don't understand," I babbled when he brushed his lips over my knees, up my thighs. His hands gently gripped my waist.

"I'm crazy about you, Kurt," he murmured. "I love everything about you, and it has nothing to do with how thin or obese you are. It's never about your appearance." Tears filled my eyes.

"I care so much about you that I'll risk anything to keep you alive, but you need to stop fighting our help." He had moved up my stomach and chest, peppering kisses all over.

"I need... help?" I found myself wondering out loud.

"Yes, baby. You do."

A sob broke out through me. Blaine wrapped his arms around me tightly, holding me together. Everything felt so heavy, rivers running from my eyes, tremors racking my body.

"Aren't you tired of feeling this way?" Blaine's comforting voice asked.

"Yes," I blubbered. He kissed my cheek. We stayed silent for a moment, passion forgotten but pure love taking its place.

"I have to go talk with Wes about some Warbler stuff that he wanted help on, but I'll be back later," Blaine said, breaking the quiet. He was already tugging his shirt on.

"Okay."

"I love you," he affirmed, kissing my lips.

"Love you, too." I fell asleep shortly after he left, tears soaking my pillow. The last thought before I slipped into the land of dreams was, "Do I really want help?"

I woke up the next day with a head still brimming with tangled thoughts. So I went for a run.

**BLAINE'S POV**

I would have never told Kurt how his stunt in the park two weeks ago affected me. I turned into myself. The Warblers kept asking if I was okay.

"Fine. Just thinking." I was always in thought, it seemed. Somehow I needed to make Kurt feel beautiful. He wouldn't listen to my words.

Last night, I physically worshipped him, but I would also never tell him that his protruding ribs and razor sharp hipbones didn't turn me on.

I really actually had an excuse to leave Kurt for a while yesterday because Wes asked me if I could help him research some songs for when the Warblers were going to sing at the senior's center down the road in a couple of weeks. Afterwards, I returned to Kurt's room to find him asleep under the covers. I closed the door quietly. In perfect timing, too, because my phone began to ring loudly.

"Hello, this is Blaine Anderson," I greeted because I hadn't looked at the caller ID.

"Why hello, Blaine Anderson," Carole replied. I could hear her amused smile.

"Hi, Carole. What's up?" I slipped into a more casual tone.

"I just wanted to ask you if Kurt had gotten any better. We haven't heard from him in a while," she explained.

"He hasn't really. Why?"

"Burt and I are thinking we need to nip this in the bud immediately. We can't wait for Kurt to want help."

"I understand," I replied. This was good news.

"Since you're the one always with him, do you know exactly what symptoms he has? We'll need to tell the doctor when we make the appointment."

"Do you have a pen and paper or can you remember it all?"

"Oh… Yeah, I can get that," she said. There was rustling followed by a, "Ready."

"Uhm, he's tired, weak, dizzy, refuses food, always cold, hair falls out, twitchy, loses balance easily, and thinks he's fat no matter what anybody says."

"Okay, thank you Blaine," Carole sniffled on the line. "We'll definitely make the appointment for next week or as soon as possible."

"Good," I commented before adding, "What's going to happen to him?"

"That's a good question. I presume he'll be admitted as an inpatient at the psychiatric ward. Depending on how he takes treatment or what bodily damage he has done, he may need a feeding tube for a while to gain weight quickly."

"How long?"

"Depends."

"Can I visit him?"

"Yes."

"Good."

We exchanged goodbyes, and I hung up the phone feeling an odd sense of a weight lifted off of my shoulders that I had been dragging along for these past months. I was happy that my job was finished, that I got his parents to get him help. Now all I could do was support my boyfriend in recovery.

_I never anticipated something terrible would happen._

**KURT'S POV**

Shoes tied. Headphones in. I stretched a bit in the earliest daylight and set off running along the Dalton trail that stretched about six miles in a circle. I jogged at a steady pace, expecting myself to have just enough time to make it back to my dorm, shower, and go to school.

Three songs later, I was exhausted.

Why? I didn't understand. What made it even weirder was tat the exhaustion was more in my head and chest than moving limbs.

Oh, I just need water.

I'll get it later.

Four more songs and I had managed to push myself a total of two miles. The sweat was dripping, but I felt cold. Doesn't that mean that I'm burning fat? I didn't want to stop, but the common feeling of being on the brink of losing consciousness crept up on me.

Head pounding. Heart beating painfully, forcefully.

"Hey, Kurt!" Jeff from the Warblers announced himself. His sudden presence actually really scared me. He came up running behind me. I changed my gait to walk and yanked the headphones out of my ears.

"Hi, Jeff," I said, trying to hide the heavy breathing.

"Dude, are you okay?" he asked. His face had changed from a cordial smile to downright concern. I really wish he hadn't said anything because now my focus was on how bad I physically felt. Now that he brought it up, my vision began blackening.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

"Do you want to sit down?" Jeff offered, reaching out for me. His fingers wrapped around my forearm completely, and his face morphed into that look that everyone keeps fucking giving me. I did want to sit though, so I must've shrugged because I was lying on the ground in a moment. My entire brain seemed to shut off, just melted onto the concrete trail.

I lied on the ground, on the concrete Dalton trail, and tensed up before becoming unconscious.

_ Help me._

**BLAINE'S POV**

My cell phone rang during early breakfast time in the Dalton hall.

"Jeff?" I read from the caller ID.

"Blaine! You've got to come out to the trail. Kurt… he-he…" Jeff stammered nervously, perhaps frantically. This was an emergency call.

"What happened with him, Jeff?" I asked sternly, catching the attention of others at the table. I stood up and began sprinting towards the exit, leaving them behind.

"I've already called the ambulance because I'm not quite sure what to do. You've got to call his parents to let them know or something."

"What's happening?" I choked out as I picked up speed toward the trail.

"He's unconscious… and… and…" he dazed off.

"Come on, Jeff," I growled.

"Like… shaking?" I almost stopped running completely.

"A seizure?" I couldn't believe the words came out of my mouth.

"Huh?"

"Is he having a seizure?"

"I think?"

"What trail marker are you at?"

"Half-past mile two." I was only at the one-mile marker, but I pulled adrenaline out of me to sprint that last mile and a half, rounding a corner to come across Jeff standing over Kurt's shaking body.

"Thank God," Jeff said. I got fairly close to Kurt, because he was only trembling, not flailing limbs. From my health class I took that one time, I remembered that all I could do was put something soft under his head, so I stripped my blazer and placed it under his skull.

In the distance, Jeff and I both heard the sirens of the ambulance. It would still be a while for them to find us. Quickly thinking, I dialed the nurse.

"Hello, this is Nurse Nancy," she answered almost immediately.

"This is Blaine Anderson," I shortly said. She could hear the tension in my voice.

"What's wrong, Blaine?"

"I'm pretty sure you would want to know why an ambulance is coming to Dalton."

"Absolutely. What happened?"

"Kurt went running, and he's having a seizure now."

"Where?"

"Dalton trail, past the two-mile marker."

"Have you cushioned his head?"

"Yes."

"I'll be there soon."

"Okay, thanks." I dialed another number after the conversation ended. The phone rang and rang which confused and worried me, but then I heard her voice.

"Blaine?" she inquired.

"Yeah, Mrs. Hummel."

"What's wrong?"

"Kurt went running, and he's having a seizure." I heard her gasp.

"No," she whispered.

"The ambulance is coming, and I'm guessing he'll be taken to the Westerville Hospital."

"Okay," she said blankly. "We'll be there as soon as possible."

As the sirens became louder, Kurt stopped seizing and just breathed deeply. I crouched down again.

"Kurt. Baby, can you hear me?"

"Is that the nurse coming?" Jeff asked, looking out in the distance to a Dalton golf cart speeding towards us.

"Yeah. Will you go out to meet her and bring her here?"

"Sure," he agreed and ran off, waving his arms wildly.

"Kurt? Kurt?" I tried again. His bony fingers twitched. I held them gently. "Yes. Come on, Kurt. Wake up." His eyes fluttered open.

"Hi, beautiful. I'm right here. I've got you," I said, tears filling my eyes. Kurt's face scrunched in pain, and he let out a groan.

"I know. We'll get you help soon. It's okay." Footsteps came up behind me.

"The paramedics are right over there," the nurse said. "Did it just now stop?"

"Yeah. He's responsive, too." The paramedics did rush up then with a stretcher and equipment. While two worked over Kurt, one stood off to the side to speak with the nurse who had brought Kurt's files along with her. Quick-thinking.

"Jeff," I turned to the lanky blonde boy. "Go to school. Please don't tell anybody what happened until Kurt allows it, okay?"

"Okay," Jeff shrugged.

"You saved his life by finding him."

"Am I allowed to know what happened? Why the hell is he that thin?"

"I promise that I will tell you everything later."

**KURT'S POV**

Confused. Tired. Disoriented. A bit nauseous.

"Hey, there, buddy. Can you hear me?" a stranger's voice asked. Boy, did I really not want to open my eyes. It felt too bright. I really didn't even know where I was. Somebody was wrapping something around my arm. Something was placed over my mouth. I wanted to scream and thrash around to get them off of me, but just groaned. It took too much energy to move.

"Can you tell me your name?" the voice questioned.

"Kurt," I mumbled through the plastic breathing piece.

"Good. Listen, Kurt. You've just had a seizure, and we need to get you to the hospital to get checked out. According to your boyfriend, you've never had one before."

"Blaine!" my muffled voice yelped. Where did he go? Wasn't he here murmuring soothing things in my ear not too long ago?

"He's talking with someone right now, but he said he'll come with us in the ambulance," the man's voice said. I heard footsteps near my head.

"The nurse said he's anorexic," a distinctly female voice said.

"That explains a lot. Let's get him on the stretcher."

I was too exhausted to do anything like argue or even think. After I was jostled onto the stretcher, the paramedics rushed me off, assuring me that Blaine was following the. Inside the vehicle, they began attaching wires and beeping machines on me.

"Bradycardia. Stand-by for any signs of heart failure."

That made me terrified, and I began to cry. The sirens were too loud, there were too many people, and I wanted my dad. At least I had Blaine.

"You're doing so well, Kurt," he spoke lowly into my ear. Tears rolled down my face. "Please don't cry. It will get better. I love you so much. You have no idea how much. Will you open your eyes? Good. Thank you, baby. Look at those beautiful blue yes. They were the first things I noticed when I first saw you. And I thought, 'Wow, how can he be that beautiful? He must be an angel.'" Blaine kept going with these comforting words, breathing on my face. I shut my eyes again, focusing on the lull of his voice instead of the blaring sirens.

_Tired._

**BURT'S POV**

"Burt. Burt. Wake up!" Carole was shaking me violently awake Friday morning.

"What's wrong? What time is it?" I grumbled. I didn't have to be at work as early as Carole on weekdays.

Wait.

_ Why hadn't she left?_

"What's wrong?" I repeated. This tie I sat up and saw Carole's teary eyes.

"It's Kurt," she said. My entire world stopped.

"No," I said and got out of bed. Dressing in five seconds flat, I had Carole explain the situation.

"He was running and had a seizure. They're at the Westerville Hospital, so it's going to be a long drive."

"I can't lose him, Carole," I stated so very obviously. She kissed me on the lips and hugged me in a loving embrace.

"Let's go."

_ Don't take my child away from me._

**KURT'S POV**

The paramedics and Blaine made me stay awake. They wanted me to remain very calm, too, as to not aggravate anything, but keeping stress away was difficult in the situation especially after Blaine had let me know that Burt and Carole were going to meet us at the hospital.

"They're going to hate me," I mumbled through the oxygen mask, but Blaine was able to understand me. He assured me that they weren't going to hate me. I couldn't help but wonder: what would this trip to the hospital entail?

I didn't have to wait long to figure out as the ambulance arrived at the destination shortly and unloaded me still lying on the gurney. Blaine walked alongside the paramedics, holding my hands. Inside of the emergency rom, people began speaking rapidly in medical jargon. I clenched my eyes shut to avoid the lash white lights.

"Seventeen-year old anorexic male, Kurt Hummel. Seizure while exercising, lasting seven minutes. Bradycardia."

"Have his guardians been contacted?"

"His parents have been contacted, released verbal permission, and are on their way."

"Can we get the kid out of here for a little while?"

"Sir, could you please step out to the waiting room? We'll let you know when you can see him."

"Uhm, sure. I guess so."

_No._ Not Blaine. He began to release his grip on my hand, and a fear surged through me.

"No!" I yelled, pulling the breathing mask off with shaky hands. "Don't go!"

"Mr. Hummel, please calm down."

"Don't touch me. Stop!" I shouted at the nurse who was escorting Blaine out already. My breathing became labored. The doctors began speaking rapidly and tried to constrain me.

"It'll be fine, Kurt! I love you," he said as a farewell before disappearing behind the wall with a nurse.

"Noooo!" I screamed shrilly. I kicked my legs, kicking nurses' hands away, and struggled against the wires on me.

Trapped. I felt trapped. Blaine wasn't there. My dad wasn't there. I had no one. There were strangers trying to hold me, and I couldn't take it.

Suddenly, a heavy grip came down on my chest, and I gasped. Pain shot through my left arm. My neck ached with such strain that I couldn't speak.

"He's going into cardiac arrest. Get the shock pads. Prepare for…"

There was so much commotion. Too much excitement. Too many wires. Harsh commands.

_Mommy, please help me._

**BLAINE'S POV**

I understood why I needed to leave the room to allow the professionals their space to work, but Kurt's screaming made me want to stay. I reached that point where I couldn't believe this was happening. I was fairly sure that point was reached when I first saw Kurt shaking on the concrete, a slightly bluish tint in his face.

"Come, son," the nurse said and gently led me away. We hadn't gone but two steps when Kurt let out the most bloodcurdling scream followed shortly by doctors' shouts of cardiac arrest.

"No," I said out loud. I didn't _want_ to believe it. Please, dear God, _no_. I felt myself being pulled to keep walking forward. The nurse situated me on a chair in the mostly empty emergency waiting area. My head dropped in my hands.

Deep breaths. Depp breaths. Deep-

Sobs.

I let loose the tears and made whimpering noises. I didn't care that the hospital workers looked at me with pathetic pity. I didn't actually notice them or anything. I didn't notice Carole approaching me.

"Oh, Blaine," she cooed and wrapped her arms around me in a much-needed mother's embrace. She was crying, too.

"What happened?" she asked, wiping my tears away. New ones quickly replaced them. I opened my mouth to speak but then caught sigh of Burt coming in from parking the car.

"Blaine?" Carole prompted again. I burst out into guttural cries and shook my head.

"What's going on? Where's Kurt?" Burt announced himself gruffly. It was obvious he had been crying, but now he was trying so hard to hold the emotions in.

"He-he," I stammered. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Deep-

"He went into cardiac arrest just now, and they're trying to stabilize him," I spit out. I really wish they hadn't heard from me that their son literally just died.

Burt crumpled to the floor at my feet. His emotions ran free. The tears reigned.

"Tell me my son's alive," he pled. I looked into those eyes, the eyes so fucking similar to Kurt's, and my heart broke.

"_I don't know_."

**DOCTOR'S POV**

"He's going into cardiac arrest," I quickly diagnosed, reading the heart monitors attached to the boy's chest and noticing his eyes roll back. The machine emitted a constant sound alerting the cessation of the muscle's beating.

"Prepare to shock."

"Stand Clear."

"Clear."

One zap of electricity by the paddles was all it took to start the sinoatrial node again. He remained unconscious and needed obvious help to breathe, but he was alive. The kid was lucky.

"We have a heartbeat."

"I need 5 ccs of…"

"I'm going to step out to see if his parents are here," I alerted the team who was already working quickly to cover the frail boy with wires and tubes.

"Hummel?" I announced loudly in the otherwise silent waiting room. Three heads popped up immediately to my right.

"I'm his father," a gruff man with reddened eyes stood up. We shook hands.

"I'm Doctor Feldman, your son's attending doctor."

"I'm Burt Hummel. This is my wife, Carole. This is Blaine, Kurt's boyfriend," the man introduced. I shook hands with the emotional crew, making sure to bring empathy into my eyes.

"How is he?" the dark-haired teen asked. I had already been alerted that he was the kid's boyfriend; he had been the one who arrived with the ambulance. "Can we see him?"

"He is being moved to the critical care unit in a minute, so I'll take you to him after I've explained what happened."

"Is he stabilized? Blaine said he went into cardiac arrest," the wife spoke. I decided to move us out of the walkway to sit in the chairs.

"Yes. While his heart did stop for about ten seconds, we were able to shock it back, and we're confident there's no immediate danger," I reported. There was a collective relief off of teir shoulders, and I completely understood that.

But here was where it became difficult. This wasn't normal trauma. This was, perhaps unintentional, suicide.

"However, Kurt has created many physiological troubles for himself through the anorexia, which," I paused to flip through the boy's files, "I was told he had been diagnosed with the eating disorder by a school nurse. I have to ask," I continued, "Has he not seen a doctor since he began to exhibit disordered eating?"

I didn't mean to make his parents feel guilty for not forcing help on their son sooner. Many parents find themselves in that situation: they want their kid to pull through by themselves so they don't have to be the "bad guys."

"We made an appointment with his general practitioner for next Tuesday. We- we," the wife tried to keep going but blubbered into tears. Mr. Hummel stroked her hand, matching tears in his own eyes.

"Well, he could've avoided this trip to the hospital had he not gone running, which triggered the seizure. The bradycardia, or too slow heartbeat, already put a lot of stress on Kurt's heart which he has obviously starved away at its size, but, by running and then having a seizure, there's no surprise he experienced heart failure," I informed dutifully.

"How is he stabilized?"Mr. Hummel questioned.

"As of right now, Kurt is on a ventilator, heart monitor, glucose drip, and a nasogastric feeding tube. Even though the heart attack lasted for mere seconds, his condition is critical enough to be treated in the Intensive Care Unit."

"How long will he be on the machines?" Carole asked.

"We still need to do a couple of tests like a brain scan and blood work, so he will stay in the ICU for at least five days. The heart monitors stay on for less than a day. The ventilator comes out when he wakes up."

"When he wakes up?" the boy began fretting.

"It's best that we keep his body systems at a stand-still under a medically-induced coma so that he has some time to rest. It won't last long, but it may keep him out for a number of hours."

"And when he wakes up?" the woman asked me.

"We will discuss what treatments for the anorexia are available, but, right now, keeping him alive is the most important thing." They all nodded. Nobody said anything, so I assumed the group wanted to see Kurt.

I led them to the fifth floor of the hospital, stopping at the nurses' station to check the room number.

Inside of room 516, two nurses were fixing wires and machines around the boy.

"I'll be checking in later," I said quietly because the Hummels and Kurt's boyfriend needed time to be with Kurt. The nurses left with me, already gossiping amongst each other.

A seventeen –year-old in the ICU was a very, very sad thing.

But my job disallowed emotion. Next patient.

**BURT'S POV**

Lying in that hospital bed, Kurt looked almost identical to Elizabeth when he was on her death bed.

Wires and tubes covering a skeleton.

How could it have gotten this far?

"My son," I whined to nobody and shuffled to his bedside. Even though there were two other peopel in the room, and Kurt probably couldn't or didn't want to listen to me, I spoke to my child.

"Kurt, what is your goal in this?" I wiped away tears. "I don't understand, son, and maybe I won't ever. I wish your mom was here because she could be able to help you in ways I could never, but I need you to fight this. I can't lose you, too, son. You've got to fight this."

I moved away from him, allowing Carole and Blaine to do whatever they wanted. I looked out the window where the sun was inappropriately shining. It was almost noon.

_ Elizabeth, help him._

**KURT'S POV**

I let go, lost control.

Of myself, my body, my mind.

I love this.

There was no colour when I passed out after Blaine left. Absence of colour, but I felt relief. My body disappeared, but my senses remained. And I sensed my mom. My deceased mother. She was here.

"Mommy," I called out. "I missed you. Talk to me. I know you're here."

"Sweetie, I'm never far away." The voice was so beautiful, melodic. It felt like home.

"I know," I said in response.

"What have you done to yourself, Kurtie?"

"What do you mean?"

"You killed yourself. Why?"

"I didn't kill myself."

"Your heart stopped. Did you want to die?"

"I- no."

"Why did you do it then?"

"I didn't know it could get so bad. I just wanted to be thin and perfect and actually see worth in myself."

"Haven't people fallen in love with you before you became thin?"

"I guess."

"Your worth is not defined by physical appearance. And if anyone judges you on your size, they are idiots because everyone's bodies are different."

"Okay."

"You'll get through this, but you've got to try. Please don't leave your father or that handsome boyfriend of yours."

"But apparently I killed myself. How am I supposed to stay with them?"

"You're going back soon."

"What?"

"Promise me you'll get better. For me, Kurtie?"

"I promise, Mommy," I muttered genuinely.

"I'll see you again when it's your time to leave."

"I trust you."

"Just remember, Kurt. You are stronger than any walls society put up. Tell your father I'm always there for him, too. I love him still though I'm so glad he has Carole."

"Don't leave me."

"You have to go now, son," her voice began fading softly.

"Mommy!" I yelled.

"I love you so much, and I cannot express how proud I am of who you've become."

I saw a flash of red and was brought back to the emergency room. I didn't fight the help. I didn't even fight the feeding tube. The people spoke rapidly and loudly, prodding me with lights and needles and everything else imaginable.

I fell asleep when they administered the anesthesia to put the ventilator in.


	11. Awake and Alive

**AN: Please please please go take my survey for a project I'm starting. - survey monkey s/ RW7LKW9 (delete the spaces)**

* * *

KURT'S POV

I opened my eyes when I became aware of mechanical whirring.

What the fuck?

"Ugh," I groaned from the fluorescent light in the room, but the noise was muffled and kind of hurt.

"Whoa, buddy. Don't move too much," I heard my dad say. I craned my head and saw him sitting on my left side holding my hand.

I remembered what my mom had said, and tears filled my eyes.

"No, no. Please don't cry. I'll get a nurse. Hang on," he said gently. In a moment, a nurse and doctor came to explain that they would take out the ventilator, the source of the whirring.

They tugged it out, causing some discomfort, but I felt able to breathe more freely.

"Open your eyes, kid," Dad ordered, making me realize that I had scrunched my face up as the ventilator tube came out. I did as he said and took in my surroundings.

The window behind my father's head suggested we were a couple of floors up, and it was late. To my other side, Carole was sitting in a chair, staring at me with comforting eyes. Tons of machines were beeping. I looked back at my father then to the unmoving figure huddled in blankets on top of cushions on the windowsill. The nurse and doctor were at the foot of my bed, speaking steadily, discussing whatever.

"Kurt," my dad said. I looked him in the eyes. "I'm so glad you're awake. I was so scared." His eyes moistened rapidly, and it took all of my strength to squeeze his hand, but it was worth seeing him smile widely.

"Hey, Kurt," the doctor interrupted the moment. "Welcome back. Do you know where you are right now?" he asked. I nodded my head stiffly.

"Do you remember what happened?" Struggling, I managed to hold up a loose pinch of my pointer finger and thumb demonstrating I only remembered a little bit of what happened. It felt like my brain wasn't connected to anything.

"Nnnnngggh," I moaned from the discomfort in my head.

"Hey, it's okay. That's fine. Well, you were exercising this morning and had a seizure, but while we were treating you, your heart stopped. We had to deliver a cardiac shock to resuscitate you," the doctor reported. It was overwhelming what he was saying, so I took a shuddery breath as he continued.

"We just took you off of the ventilator which serves as a precaution for heart attack patients. You've been asleep for a good eight hours or so. Right now, you're on a glucose drip, the needle in your right hand, which is rehydrating you," he pointed out. My eyebrows furrowed. I really hoped I wasn't seeing things, but my hand seemed purple and greenish.

"Your veins are very weak, so we had to try a couple of times to get the needle in," the doctor explained. "The tube in your nose leads down to your stomach and is giving you the nutrients you deprived it of by the anorexia. We'll take the heart monitors off in a little while." Carole, my dad, and the doctor all looked at me expectantly, but I just nodded in understanding.

"We'll try to do everything we can to get you back on your feet, so you'll be staying here for a while until we think you're ready," added the doctor. Again, I nodded then closed my eyes to rest them.

"Is it okay if he sleeps?" my father asked in his deep voice, still holding my hand tenderly.

"Of course."

So I did, silently slipping off hopefully to dream of my mom again.

CAROLE'S POV

The shock of seeing Kurt in basically the same situation as Burt had been a year ago was just horrible. Since I was his stepmother, I felt somewhat responsible for not stopping his dangerous habits sooner. There are no words to describe the atmosphere of ICU Room 516.

I made myself useful around one pm to get Burt and Blaine lunch. I also decided to call Finn, who had always been out during the Friday dinners. He didn't know about Kurt's situation. He hadn't seen him. We didn't tell him, but Burt and I would be otherwise preoccupied for God knows how long, so Finn needed to know that. However, my son was in school. Deciding to just call anyway, I dialed his number. Perhaps he had his phone out.

"Hello?" he picked up.

"Hey, honey. It's me," I recited like usual.

"What's up?"

"I just wanted to let you know what's going on."

"Wait, why? What's wrong?"

"Burt and I are at the hospital for-"

"WHAT?" he yelled, making me wince.

"Honey, are you in class?"

"I have a study hall. Why are you in the hospital?"

"Kurt-"

"WHAT?" he screamed again.

"Finn, let me finish please. Kurt's having some serious health issues right now that need to be taken care of," I said, skipping out on literally every single detail.

"What happened, mom? What health issues? How long is he there? What hospital are you at? I can try to leave school to come," Finn rambled.

"Thank you for being so concerned about your step-brother, but skipping school is not necessary as he's asleep and will be for a while, but tomorrow, when he can have visitors and be awake to see them, you can come," I spoke. "It's the Westerville Hospital which, I know, is a long drive, but maybe you can pick up food for you and us on the way," I finished. That placated him, and I ended the call, picked up the lunch order, and headed back to Room 516.

BLAINE'S POV

I sat back as Burt and Carole cooed over their unconscious son. I sat back as Burt and Carole ate a snack together, me nibbling on chips Carole brought me. I sat back as Kurt, still unconscious, was rolled to get a brain scan. I sat back as the doctor explained to his parents that there was slight damage to the area of Kurt's' brain that dealt with the mechanics of speech caused by the seizure or heart attack. Luckily, the doctor thought that it could fix itself once he woke up.

It was just a lot of sitting back. And staring at Kurt. He was almost obscured by the wires and tubes that kept him alive. The hospital gown had had ben put in was much too large for his skeletal frame and sagged off his shoulders a bit to reveal waxy skin stretched taut over bone.

It was like physically looking at death, but he looked peaceful, and this was the help he needed.

I just wish he didn't have to reach rock bottom to get there.

Boy, did I have some somber phone calls to make.

First, I called the nurse, who had stayed at Dalton to do paperwork and alert the authorities of what happened, why Kurt wouldn't be attending classes, why he wouldn't be back for a while. His parents would deal with that issue, but I guess he'll just get the lessons and try to teach himself.

Of course, I'll help.

Next, I called Jeff, who I knew had his phone out at lunchtime.

"Hey, Blaine. How is he? What happened?" Jeff fired away at me immediately. I took a deep breath.

"Kurt, as you can probably tell, has an eating disorder, but-"

"That explains a lot actually," Jeff interrupted solemnly. "A couple of us figured that out, but we didn't know what to do."

"The nurse and I have been trying to help him, but he just took it too far."

"What exactly happened?"

"The seizure was cause by overworking his body, then, at the hospital, he went into cardiac arrest."

"Oh- oh my _god_," the Warbler gasped. I cleared my throat.

"He's stable and resting, but he'll be in treatment for a while," I added.

"Can I tell the Warblers?" Jeff hesitantly asked.

"I'll ask Kurt if it's okay when he wakes up."

"When will you be back? You skipped school today."

"I know. I'll be there Monday for sure. I just needed to be here."

"You really love him," he stated randomly.

"Yes, he's everything to me," I said.

"This must be hard on you."

"This isn't about me," was my retort.

"I'm sure you're having a hard time with all of this though," he tried again.

"I'll be fine." The conversation ended at that. When I stepped back into Room 516, Carole patted the windowsill seat next to her. She had gotten food for us. I thought it was just a little weird to be eating in the situation.

"You should go back to school, kid," Burt commented at around 2 pm.

'With all due respect, Mr. Hummel, I really want to stay here." Carole and Kurt's dad looked at each other and shrugged.

The food and absolute craziness of everything had made me kind of sleepy, so Carole let me stretch out on the windowsill. As I fell asleep, she laid a blanket on top of me.

You know that kind of sleep that feels like you closed your eyes only to open them five seconds later to find five hours have passed? 7 pm, still Friday.

I woke up when it was dark because there was a lot of talking and moving around in the room. I sat up quickly and saw Burt and Carole crowded around Kurt's bed.

Kurt was awake. Even though Burt and Carole informed me this was only the second time for him to be awake, I hopped up and pushed through, getting right in front of his face.

"Kurt," I whispered. He opened his eyes, those blue eyes I could never live without. He smiled sleepily at me. Nobody spoke as I leaned forward to kiss Kurt's cheek and nuzzled my face into his neckline like a puppy cuddling up. Carole cooed, but I just stayed in the crook of his neck, ignoring the sterile hospital smell, ignoring his cold skin.

"I love you, beautiful," I said, pulling away to stare into his eyes again. Shakily, he lifted his hand and caressed my face. I laughed at his furrowed eyebrows. I had some stubble, and he had never liked stubble.

"I have to shave," I said for him. He smiled again and nodded slowly. His eyes became heavy, and I guess he fell asleep, but at least he had woken up. At least he was alive. At least that dream I had didn't come true all the way.


End file.
